The little house seemed completely abandoned, surrounded by frozen flowers, the door wasn't locked by key. The eerie atmosphere and the sub-freezing temperature in the house would give chills to anyone. A pair of boots laid in the entrance hall, and a coat was thrown onto the low bench. The kitchen was interconnected with the living room. The fire in the small fireplace was out a long time ago, as it could be judged by the light grey color of the fine ash. A few clothes laid on the couch, a pair of dark blue, ripped jeans, a grey sweater, a wrinkled shirt and a scarf. There was a thin crystal vase on the kitchen counter, with two withered daffodiles. The door of the bathroom was slightly opened, it was hard to open it wider, the hinges were frozen. A young boy laid in the bathtub, with purple-greyish blemishes on his pale skin. His ash-blonde hair fell into his face, it shimmered of frost, the tears were frozen on his light-coloured lashes. His left arm hung down by the rim of the tub, the tip of his pinky finger implied the puddle of blood beneath, a deep, narrow cut ran along his wrist. He held a razor blade in the other hand. The water reached his chest, it was frozen in a thin layer. The sight was extremely clear and untouched, like a field of snow. He hadn't written a farewell letter or a log entry, he just silently walked away to the other side without a trace.

Beautifully written. I really love these kinds of stories and would like it if I could write one myself -- really in character in my opinion.The only other mistake is the coat was thrown, not threw. ^^